Sounds of my Writings: A Friend

There was a man called grace who was beloved and devoted like no other to Christ. Many of his companions envied his proximity and questioned his intimacy with the one who would save. He was the standard of a friend who sticks closer than a brother. And, he would behold the greatest responsibility to care for the very vessel that ushered in the world's salvation. He was young, quiet of spirit, and meek, and he would lean against the very chest of God to hear the sounds and cares of his heartbeat.

He is one among a thousand and fearlessly stood at the plumb line between heaven and earth. He knew something the rest didn’t know, the secret prayers of him who would change the world forever.

His name was John (grace), and he would defy death so that the final chapter of this story would be told.

John 19:26-29

26 When Jesus, therefore, saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, “Woman, behold your son!” 27 Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother!” And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home.

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Sounds of my Writings: Who is in Command?

Who is in command? and why do they speak that way as though they are praying? They shout boastful words and even point their fingers facing up when their knees should be bowing down. They believe that screaming is a means of getting my attention, not knowing that a simple whisper in humility echos louder than a thousand trumpets in my ear.

Ain’t I the one who knows the thoughts and needs of men even before they ask? For I stood upon the face of the waters and commanded earth and it’s function. I have given you commandments for living, and you have not followed. I have commanded armies and you have not surrendered. I have commanded love, and you have hated. Am I a genie, a magician, or puppet that you can command a false blessing upon your dry land.

Didn’t I say “if my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray, and turn from their wicked ways than I will hear from heaven and shall heal their land”? So why is my house so desolate with pride, and the prayers of the mighty grown silent and dim even while many pray?

For I encourage you to light the lamp with fresh oil and trim it’s wick so it can burn brightly again. Know that I have attempted to get your attention, while you have tried to provoke mine. For confidence in knowing that I am near, and not far and I am the commander of the host of army, so neither I am for you or against you. My will shall be done.

So, Follow My Commands.

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Sounds of my Writings: The Tent Poem

It was in that first room under the fiery stars where the man heard my voice again. I laid there with him - echoing to step out and look, I’m coming again.

I no longer only dwell in the vast lands or in the mountains above, or in the deepest valleys. But, I stepped down from the highest heavens to have communion with him in that place he made in a hurry.

He found protection in you while losing comfort in me. So I spoke to Abraham, Issac, and Jacob, and even my servant Moses to tell them let’s meet with me.

A small draped sanctuary where man sought me in quiet. I called it a “tent of meeting” but they called it a house of worries.

Didn’t you know I wanted to meet with you at your home called ohel. That mobile structure that incapsulated your dreams, where all your anxieties at my presence felt. Meet with me I asked, and I will share with you my plans. But he said how can I, I am still building my mishcan.

Mobile, agile and shaded it needed to be. So that man does not trust in its foundation, but trust in me. I’m forever moving, and so they learned to move with me. A tent of meeting, a place for him and me.

The tent of meeting

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